Legolas's Quest For Bleach
by Seremela Minyatur
Summary: Legolas's roots are beginning to show. Oh the humanity! What will he do for hair dye?


Legolas's Quest For Bleach  
  
By: Séreméla Minyatur  
  
**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own Tolkien or any of his very awesome characters.  
  
Also, I would like to point out that there are a few references to the VSDs, and for that, I'm sorry. And I'm aware that this is pretty dumb and has almost no point. It's meant to be funny. For the last time, (and as anyone who has read my other LOTR fic knows) this is not how I really view the characters. I have more respect for them than that. So don't send me a review if you can't keep an open mind and you are going to yell at me about how they aren't really like this. I KNOW. Oh, and it doesn't really take place at any point in the real story, for the record. Oh well, I've said enough, enjoy.  
  
Legolas stood in front of the full-length mirror, the place where he spent at least two hours of every day. He looked at the state of his hair roots and began to scream.  
  
"My-my highlights! They will be ruined if I don't find a good bottle of peroxide soon! My gorgeous blond highlights! What will I do? Oh, the humanity!"  
  
He broke down and began to cry when Aragorn and Gandalf came into the room.  
  
"Oh dear, what is today's drama? He didn't rip another pair of leggings, did he?" Gandalf asked as he saw Legolas's crumpled form kicking and screaming on the floor.  
  
"Didn't you hear?" He quite clearly screamed that his roots are beginning to show," Aragorn said, "And I suppose he thinks this is the end of Middle- Earth."  
  
"Again? First of all, I thought we had been over what constitutes as the end of Middle-Earth. And secondly, I thought he just re-dyed his hair a hundred years ago," Gandalf said.  
  
"Are you sure you couldn't call the Balrog again?"  
  
"NO!" Gandalf yelled so loudly that for a second Legolas looked up at them before returning to his tantrum.  
  
"Well, I am so sick of him whining and throwing himself around every time he looks in the mirror, which is far too often!"  
  
"You have a point. He will alert every orc in Mordor to our presence. And we are in Lothlorien," Gandalf said, sighing deeply.  
  
"Even Haldir has been complaining about Legolas, and he is no better."  
  
"Haldir complains about everything. Galadriel has voiced a complaint as well. Something about Legolas being completely out of control, I think."  
  
"And Legolas still is the prettiest elf here," Aragorn said regretfully.  
  
"How many times must I tell you? You would be just as pretty as an elf if you took a shower and shaved once in a while," Gandalf said, stroking Aragorn's shoulder fondly.  
  
Aragorn pushed his hand away. "And I believe you should stick to your hobbit toys, Gandalf."  
  
Aragorn left the room, walking quickly. Once again, he had been shot down by a potential boyfriend. He had considered going out with Legolas at one point, but all the elf was good for was looking pretty and throwing tantrums. Besides, he had snuck a peek at Legolas's diary when the elf was out bickering over whose weave was better with Haldir. One entry had said, "Note to self: Never date Gandalf."  
  
The next morning, when Legolas was still acting like a hormonal fifteen- year old, Gandalf decided to put a new plan into action. He went around and broke every single mirror in Lothlorien. Then he told Legolas to pick up the pieces. The elf refused, complaining that he might break a nail. Then he went off and told Galadriel.  
  
Galadriel was not happy about what Gandalf had done. She ordered him to leave Lothlorien immediately. She was sending him to the Gap of Rohan with a list of clothes she needed for her spring wardrobe. Legolas tossed in a few items of his own. Gandalf wasn't going to buy anything for him because he thought he might encourage Legolas to continue acting like a spoiled princess, but he thought it might shut the whiny elf up, so he relented.  
  
However, Galadriel was not happy with Legolas either. So she told him that if he couldn't learn to behave himself, he would have to leave the Golden Wood.  
  
That evening, Legolas was embroiled in a deep argument over hair care products with Haldir.  
  
"I'm telling you, Herbal Essences is the best! It makes your hair soft and silky, AND it smells pretty," Legolas said.  
  
"Hmph," Haldir replied. "Well....your roots are still showing!"  
  
"My weave is still so much better than yours!" Legolas exclaimed.  
  
"Sooner or later those dark roots are going to catch up to you, and then you will be forced to admit that you aren't a natural blond," Haldir said smugly, stroking his golden blond hair.  
  
Legolas gasped. He truly hadn't thought of that. His entire reputation was at stake.  
  
That night, he packed up all of his hair care products and his blow dryer. He was going on a mission to find a good bottle of bleach, even if it was the last one in Middle-Earth.  
  
He thought that it would be wise to search Lothlorien first, in case any of the elves were withholding bleach from him out of pure spite. There was nothing. All of Middle-Earth had been thrown into a bleach shortage when Saruman had begun hoarding it all. The Istar was working in a muddy hole, carrying on the filthy business of breeding Uruk-hai. He had to stay Saruman the White somehow. And that took quite a lot of bleach.  
  
He had to leave Lothlorien when he found nothing. He was becoming very jealous of how good Galadriel's hair looked all the time. He wondered how she managed to stay that pretty when all of Middle-Earth was in danger of being taken over by a giant, flaming eyeball.  
  
However, Legolas could not wait until his triumphant return to the woodland realm so he could prove once and for all that his highlights were far more gorgeous than Haldir's. If Haldir thought that Legolas would share his peroxide with him after he had caught the other elf trying to steal the last of his conditioner and his best hairbrush, he was sorely mistaken.  
  
So Legolas rode off on his horse, trying not to think of horrible this mission would be for his complexion. He would have to book himself a mudpack when he returned.  
  
He rode to Gondor first, mostly just to prove to Gandalf and Aragorn that he did more than just stare in the mirror all the time. There was obviously no bleach in Gondor. Apparently no one in the country believed in hair dye, even though some of them certainly could have used it. It was very depressing.  
  
It was obviously a bad idea to search for bleach in Mordor. He only got dirtier and needed the bleach (in addition to a good bubble bath) even more.  
  
So he went to Rohan next. Legolas was very jealous because every person in Rohan seemed to be naturally blond. It just wasn't fair.  
  
He could still blend in a little, but the root situation was really getting quite desperate. He bought a hat to hide the top of his head, but even he thought that it made him look quite fruity. So he ended up pulling up the hood of his cape. It probably made him look like a hideous freak, but it was better than letting them see his dark roots. After a while, he decided that it was probably best if he hid his face as well. All the crying over his hair and complexion was making his eyes very bloodshot. And he had what possibly looked like a zit, his first ever. He blamed it on the fact that he couldn't wash his face as much. He could have died from embarrassment from the state he was in.  
  
So finally, after a couple of months, Legolas decided to go somewhere where he knew for sure that there was at least one bottle of bleach. Isengard. Sure, it wasn't a particularly good idea to tango with the likes of Saruman out of his own free will, but the hair situation was beyond desperation at that point. He was confident that he would bring that bleach hoarder to justice.  
  
Game plan: march up to Orthanc and demand bleach, Legolas told himself. Then it occurred to him that merely screaming at Saruman was not going to get him anywhere. He would have to show off his sexy legs, as revealed by his tight, butt-hugging pants. He could get anywhere he wanted that way. He also hoped that the long ride from Lothlorien had improved the condition of his butt muscles.  
  
He only wished he had a mirror. Dark roots or not, he was one sexy beast. Who could resist Legolas? He attracted males and females alike. (He wasn't aware of the fact that some of the males thought he WAS female.)  
  
Legolas arrived in Isengard to find that some nasty, icky orcs were checking him out. He was absolutely appalled. They had to be uglier than Elrong wearing purple.  
  
He got to Orthanc and wasn't sure what he should do. He dismounted from his horse, and ran at the tower. He ran smack into the door AND fell down the stairs. His hood fell down, revealing his root, and he was sure that he had dirt on his butt. This had to be the least pretty he had ever looked in his entire life. He could hear Saruman laughing from somewhere. Legolas wasn't sure if it was because the Istar had just witnessed the clumsiest moment of the elf's life, or if it was because Sauron had just told him that he was sexy through the palantir. Either way, Legolas shuddered.  
  
He got to his feet and strode purposefully to the door and tried to open it. It was locked, of course. Saruman, being an evil genius, had realized what outsiders could walk in on him doing.  
  
Saruman saw the disgruntled elf through his newly installed security cameras. He had not seen anything so pretty in a long time, so he went out to see exactly what the pretty visitor wanted.  
  
"Can I help you?" Saruman asked.  
  
Legolas thought about throwing himself at Saruman's feet and begging for his peroxide, but that would have been quite pathetic, even for him. What would Aragorn do? Sound as manly as possible, even though that would be a lot harder for Legolas.  
  
"I have come to commandeer a bottle of bleach," the elf said, trying to make his voice very low.  
  
Saruman just laughed. This elf was just about as manly as Elrond wearing Arwen's tiara.  
  
"And why should I give it to you?" Saruman asked.  
  
"Because you are an evil bleach hoarder and if you don't give it to me, I will put an arrow through your throat!"  
  
Saruman laughed again. The elf was about as fierce as a de-clawed kitten.  
  
"Well, I could do something for it," Legolas said, thinking back to his days of giving sexual favors, and then realized that this was Saruman.  
  
"Like what?" Saruman asked curiously.  
  
Legolas thought quickly. "I could give you some fashion advice." The elf had certainly watched enough episodes of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.  
  
Now he had Saruman's full attention. "Okay, we'll see what you have to say." "Well, first of all, what's with all the white? It SO isn't your color. You are really more of a....purple. Yeah, that's it. The nails have GOT to go. How do you ever get dates looking like that?"  
  
The wizard had to admit, Legolas had a point. He had been insulted enough that he would have to run to Sauron for comfort. He gave Legolas an industrial sized bottle of bleach, and went back inside his tower to sulk.  
  
Legolas arrived back in Lothlorien a week later, gorgeous once more, with his fabulous highlights that were the envy of all the elves, especially Haldir. 


End file.
